


Little Talks

by musiquetta



Series: California Heat [1]
Category: Young Avengers
Genre: F/F, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 11:14:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2107713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musiquetta/pseuds/musiquetta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate hits a rough patch. America knows the feeling. She also knows the way into a girl's heart is paved with greasy food.</p><p>Set after the Hawkeye Annual / Issue 14</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Talks

**Author's Note:**

> For [illustratedacorns](http://illustratedacorns.tumblr.com/). Prompt was 'slowly falling for each other' and that they do. Title is by the eponymous song by Of Monsters And Men.

Kate sits atop the trailer she currently calls home as the burn of the California sun slowly fades into sunset. Another day without any progress on her current superheroing gig ends and Kate Bishop had fled her home where a cat was currently eating while she very much wasn't – and hadn't for a while.

 

She lets herself fall back, the heat of the trailer surface seeping through her clothing, warming her back, makes her squirm and maybe, if she just focuses on that she won't think so much about hot perfectly perfect a cheeseburger would taste right now and – her stomach growls.

 

“Shut up.” she bemoans through gritted teeth.

 

“I didn't say anything.” a voice comes, slightly annoyed as usual. Kate bolts upright and finds America looking up at her, one eyebrow raised, lips curled in a half-smile. America hops up to sit down next to her. The trailer wobbles under her, Kate sways with it and their shoulders brush.

 

The smell of food distracts her from the bubbly feeling in her stomach as it once again grumbles loudly.

 

“That food you got there?” Kate asks, going for nonchalant, ending up somewhere around a whine.

 

“What, this?” America says, holding up the brown paper bag with some logo on it. “Nah, those are my ski, I figured I'd need them for a visit around these parts.” The look on her face must be quite pathetic, Kate thinks, judging by the smile America has to bite back as she drops the bag into Kate's lap.

 

“Dig in, princess.”

 

And Kate does. Moments later she's reaching into the bag for a second burger. She stops suddenly, throwing a guilty glance sideways.

 

“Uhm … did you want some, too?”

 

“I might be a nearly indestructible super-woman who can throw tanks to the moon, but I'm not gonna fight you over those. I saw the look in your eyes when you smelt them.” America laughs. “But seriously, those are just for you, princess.”

 

“Some would argue I hardly have the manners of a princess, _especially_ right now.” Kate says, unwrapping the other burger. She's pretty sure that's a piece of salad and some mayo sticking to her cheek, but she couldn't care less right now. America shrugs.

 

“Not where I'm from.” she says and stays quiet while Kate manages to slow down enough to actually taste the burger before swallowing.

 

“So.” Kate says halfway into her second burger, munching on some fries, when she can't hold the question back anymore. “How did you know? About the food shortage thing, I mean.” America raises an eyebrow at her.

 

“I didn't. Just knew something was up. You're not really subtle, you know?” Kate freezes mid-bite and tilts her head.

 

America leans back and spends some time wrestling Kate's old phone from the pocket of her hot pants – the phone Kate gave her, the phone America actually uses to keep in touch with them all, Kate thinks and her stomach tingles again, despite her being about a burger past sated. America clears her throat and starts reading.

 

“'Hi, everything is fine, the weather is great.' 'The people here are really nice, I'm making a ton of friends!' 'Moving here was the best decision ever.'” She throws Kate a 'Seriously?' look and puts her phone away again.

 

“Too cheery?” Kate asks.

“There's a heatwave and you didn't complain about the weather. Not once. You used to complain about the heat in _New York_. And once you sent me three texts in two hours complaining about 5 people you met on the subway.” Kate's shoulders slump.

 

“In my defense one was a super-powered robber whose criminal shenanigans delayed my train.” she says, then adds, much quieter.

 

“I didn't want you guys to worry.” Kate says. America huffs.

“Mission not accomplished.” She stuffs her phone back into her pocket. “You could've called, you know.” she says after a moment of consideration. Kate sighs heavily.

 

“I know, I just …” She searches for words to describe the thoughts that had stopped her from pressing 'Dial' countless times – be it Billy's, Tommy's or America's number. Even Clint's on occasion. But what was she supposed to say? 'So just about every bad thing that could happen when a rich girl gets her Daddy's money taken away happened and though technically this was sort of Madame Masque's fault her pride won't allow her to call her friends even though this was the second day she was all out of money and also all out of clues'.

 

“I guess I kinda fail at this.” Kate admits and doesn't saying it out loud make it so much worse. She practically feels America frowning at her. Disruptance in the force, Billy would say, and truly America's lips are pursed and her eyebrows are drawn tight.

 

“Keep wallowing and I'll push you off this trailer, don't think I won't. You're better than that, Bishop.” Kate groans and dumps the half-eaten burger back into the bag.

 

“Technically, I know that.” she says, taking a deep breath to be prepared for the rant she feels coming. “But today I spent all night in a club spying on middle-aged businessmen, who do nothing but be awful waiters, then cycled all the way across town after their dangerously fast cab to spy on what turned out to be some grannies giving them their lunch and all I got was like half the sand of that beach in my sneakers and bird poop in my hair.” America is chuckling. “Not funny.”

 

“A bit funny.”

“I think there's still poop there.” Kate says, tugging at a strand of her hair.

“You pull it off, princess.”

 

Kate glares at her, but America is like the Goliath of glaring, and she is very much not the David, so she just resumes eating her burger.

 

“So what are they planning?” America asks as Kate crumbles the wrapping paper in her hand.

“Hm?”

“The businessmen and the grannies.”

“Not sure.” America raises an eyebrow.

“How can you be 'not sure'? Are you just following some businessmen and their grannies and hope they have some ties to the smuggling of knitted stuff?”

 

Kate sighs. “I don't think the grannies have anything to do with it, besides supplying some douchebag offsprings with food, I guess. Actually, this guy hired me to find out where they are hiding the crook who robbed him but I was only able to trace these two businessmen to that beach where they take those grannies like the good, upstanding citizens they aren't and to that downtown club where they sit in a corner and do absolutely _nothing_ fun. Aside from that they're at home or at work and I know they're in contact with the guy because the goods keep popping up, I just can't figure out where they get them.” 

 

“And how does the bird poop play into this?” America asks, amusement playing around the corner of her mouth. Kate throws her a pained look.

“I may have hid in an empty fish barrel. Sea gulls.” she recounts this morning's events and America chuckles at the regret in Kate's voice.

“Nice thinking, Bishop. Kudos for not blowing your cover. Must've been tough.”

“You have no idea.”

 

Silence settles over them as the last minutes of sunlight pass. Kate eats.

 

America opens her mouth to say something and closes it again, picks at the loose threads hanging from the wrecked patches of her jeans shorts.

 

“I didn't mean to – ” She makes a vague gesture and frowns. “pry, I guess.” she concludes. “This is not an … intervention or anything. I get it, princess.”

 

“Get what?” Kate says around a mouthful, wary of that weird tone in America's voice. It's kinda forced, like she's only talking because someone's holding a gun to her head. A gun that could actually bother her beyond a tickle, that is. America shrugs and straightens her back a bit.

 

“Why you didn't call. I wouldn't have done it. Haven't done it, when I was … well. In a similar situation.” She stares into the distance for a moment. “I get it.” she repeats and turns her head to meet Kate's eyes.

 

“You can do this, I know that and I want you to know I know that. You're tough. You're talented and you're going to figure this out on your own but – ” She drops her gaze again, down to where Lucky lies on the ground, lazily wagging his tail.

 

“If this isn't something you absolutely have to do on your own, I'll be back, if that's cool. Maybe just with burgers.” America takes a deep breath and Kate wonders if she can feel the way Kate's staring at her, hoping to unravel whatever intention she had in coming here, saying what she did if she could only stares at her long enough.

 

“You know,” Kate says finally and whistles. Lucky jumps up from where he'd been resting and elegantly catches the last bit of food Kate throws down. “We actually kinda prefer pizza.” she says. America smiles first, a small and content smile, before chuckling.

 

“Noted.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think! I'm [here](http://cptcarol.tumblr.com) on tumblr.


End file.
